


Right Way Up

by ijemanja



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-03
Updated: 2006-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chiana laughs. Jool glares. They stay like that a microt, staring each other down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Way Up

**Author's Note:**

> Femslash_today porn battle fill.

Jool can't help wanting to discover everything Chiana's pink little mouth has to offer, every slide and curl and trick that quick little tongue can boast.

Chiana is equally fascinated by the sudden startling red of Jool's hair. She rubs her face in the long curls as Jool presses up all urgent against her.

"How the frell do you undo these things?" Jool whines as she pulls at the ties of Chiana's top.

"You can talk," Chiana returns, similarly engaged in trying to tug down Jool's skin-tight bustier. "What are you, vacuum packed into this thing?"

Jool bares her teeth, staring down at the shorter woman. "At least I've got something to show off."

"Tralk's always got something to show off. Doesn't mean it's worth lookin' at," Chiana returns, head cocked as she gives another hard yank.

"Ow! Frelling fekkik," Jool spits, shoving her hands away, " _That_ doesn't come off!"

Chiana laughs. Jool glares. They stay like that a microt, staring each other down.

Then, by mutual agreement, both take a step back and work at their own ties and clasps instead, stripping quickly, efficiently, so they can get on with the frelling already.

Chiana's quick, nimble fingers have her naked first, the pale length of her body more stark and startling now, unbroken and bare. Jool lifts her head and stares as she pushes her leggings down to her ankles.

Chiana takes advantage of her awkward stance and shoves her easily over. Following her down, ignoring the startled squawk as Jool's back hits the floor, she crouches over her and muffles any further noise with her cunt.

Jool doesn't protest for long, and planting her hands on the floor Chiana moves with Jool's tongue, grinding down in a desperate effort to maximise that soft, lightly rasping touch as it laves at her sex.

"More," she gasps, because it's too soft, too much like teasing and not enough like anything that will get her off.

Jool reaches up blindly and one hand finds purchase, curving up around Chiana's hip, and the other skims her ass and slides underneath till fingers are pressing up inside her.

"More," again, less a plea than a demand, and Jool works another in, thrusting, dragging out and pushing back in. Chiana slaps her palms on the floor and pushes back against Jool's face and hand until Jool utters a wordless complaint and bites down hard on her clit and doesn't let go.

Chiana throws her head back and yells at the stabbing rush of orgasm that rises up out of the pain and almost knocks her flat. Hips canting as she rides it out, arms starting to tremble from bearing her weight, she lets herself fall forward, face meeting the floor as she rests there panting.

And under her, Jool drums her feet, finally manages to kick off her bunched up pants and then with a yell of her own overturns Chiana's body and sits up, flushed and breathless.

"Almost suffocated me!" she accuses, turning around to glare as she wipes her arm over her mouth.

"Appreciate it," Chiana replies, looking back up at her with a worn out grin.

Jool huffs. "You should."

"Shut up," Chiana suggests cheerfully from her prone position, and then rises up and grabs Jool's shoulders and sticks her tongue in her mouth.

"Make it good," Jool mumbles against her lips, cranky and impatient.

Chiana moves fast then, wrestling her around and hanging over her back.

"Always do, princess," she breathes, and with Jool flat on her stomach works four fingers into her cunt, and another two in her ass.

Then there's hot breath and the slide of Chiana's tongue along Jool's spine, teeth tugging at the ends of her hair. Jool hisses and whines and curls her toes, fingers scrabbling at the floor for something to hold onto as those fingers and knuckles twisting and stretching inside her and she's so full, and it's so good, and she's going to -

"Freeeell!"

Her scream as she comes, writhing around Chiana's fingers, has every dench of metal in the room wilting.

"Frell," she says again some microts later, grunting in discomfort when Chiana withdraws her hands.

"Yeah," Chiana agrees. She gives her head a shake, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. "Next time," she says, "I'm gonna solder your frelling mouth shut."

"Next time," Jool returns, face still buried in her arms, "I'm going to be on top."  



End file.
